


Save Yourself (I'll Help You)

by Mikauzoran



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is not in a good place mentally sometimes, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Aged-Up (17), Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Support, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, Honest Conversations, Hopeful, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Lady Noir - Freeform, Life-affirming, Love Confessions, Partnership, Snuggling on Rooftops, Supportive Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Supportive Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, adrienette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikauzoran/pseuds/Mikauzoran
Summary: When Chat Noir confides in Ladybug that he’s been feeling lost and alone lately, Marinette is willing to do whatever it takes to help her partner…even if that means risking exposing her identity and the feelings for him that she’s tried to keep hidden.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 94
Kudos: 400





	1. Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I'm Mikau. ^.^ It's nice to meet you newcomers and wonderful to see familiar faces again. Thank you so much for checking out this story. The first chapter is Lady Noir, and then the second chapter will be Adrienette.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Shameless plug for my [Tumblr](https://mikauzoran.tumblr.com/).

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Ladybug noted as they rounded the spire of [Sainte Chapelle](https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1SQJL_enUS779US779&q=sainte+chapelle&tbm=isch&chips=q:sainte+chapelle,g_1:exterior:8woGY60mGj4%3D&usg=AI4_-kSt6yqH_0z67QtB4zIupUh0Fze8_A&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwicqp6_oqbuAhXYbc0KHbV8CKcQgIoDKAF6BAgDEAo&biw=1366&bih=625). “Something on your mind?”

“That obvious?” Chat Noir chuckled mirthlessly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he mentally kicked himself for worrying her needlessly when he knew she had so much on her own plate.

He forced a playful smile. “I thought I was putting up a pretty good front. Do I at least get points for effort?”

She slowed to a stop on the steeply pitched roof to frown in concern at her partner. “Chat Noir, if something’s bothering you, you shouldn’t stuff it down and try to hide it.”

He looked away, struggling not to laugh darkly at the irony of her assertion because bottling things up and concealing his feelings was exactly the way Adrien’s father preferred that he deal with matters.

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged, hoping she would buy the lie and move on. He felt stupid for being upset over something so silly, and the last thing he needed was for _her_ to think he was stupid too.

“Will you let _me_ decide if it’s nothing?” she inquired tentatively, afraid of pushing him to open up to her but wanting to be there to support him, if he needed it.

“If you feel comfortable talking about it,” she quickly added at his surprised silence. “You don’t have to. I don’t want to force you to confide in me, but…I wish you would.”

He studied her for a long moment, taking in her earnest expression, the pure desire to help that was perpetually shining in her eyes.

In spite of himself, his lips pulled up at the corner into a soft, weary, lopsided grin.

“All right. How can I say no to my Lady?” he reluctantly agreed, walking over to the edge of the roof’s gable and hopping down to the arcade just above the church’s rose window where they could sit and talk undisturbed.

She lowered herself on her yoyo and settled in beside him, stressing, “ _Thank_ you.”

He quirked an eyebrow, chuckling in earnest, “Why are you acting like _I’m_ the one doing _you_ a favor?”

She shrugged sheepishly. “I just…It makes me really happy that you’re willing to confide in me. I know I haven’t always been…” She bit her lip uneasily, averting her gaze. “I know you feel like I don’t always keep you in the loop, both before and after we lost Maître Fu, and I can appreciate how hard it might be to trust someone who doesn’t always act like she trusts you, so…”

Hesitantly, she looked back up at him, meeting his eyes. “…So I’m really happy that you still trust me…that I haven’t messed this up yet.”

“Oh, Bug,” he sighed, scooting closer and pulling her into a side hug. “La-dy-bug.” He clicked his tongue in feigned admonishment as he squeezed her tight. “I _know_ you trust me in all the ways it really counts. Maybe I didn’t always get the point of all the secrets when we were younger, but I get it now…most of the time, anyway,” he amended a little more honestly as an afterthought.

“You do?” She tipped her head to get a glimpse of his expression.

He nodded and then nuzzled her hair. “I get that our lives are in constant danger, the lives of our loved ones, the fate of Paris… I get that all of that weighs heavily on your shoulders, and I understand that you’re just trying to keep yourself and me and everyone safe. I understand….” His voice lowered, softening with vulnerability. “That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt me sometimes when you feel like you have to keep me at arms’ length, but I get why you do it, and I don’t hold it against you.”

“You don’t?” she echoed in disbelief.

He fluttered his hand, palm down, back and forth. “Meh. Not much. Not usually. I mean, I have my sulky days where I’m a total drama queen about it and collapse onto my bed with my arm thrown over my face and whine to my kwami incessantly, but…yeah,” he chuckled. “Normally, I don’t hold it against you. Not anymore. I think it comes with growing up a little bit, getting more mature,” he bragged, waggling his eyebrows at her playfully to lighten the mood.

She burst out laughing, assuring, “You’re very mature, Chaton.”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Oh, yeah?” he hummed as his eyebrow arched. “You don’t sound very sincere, Ladybug. It _sounds_ like you’re mocking me,” he began to pout. “I think my feelings are hurt.”

“No, no,” she insisted as her giggle fit slowly dried up. She rested a hand lightly on his knee and smiled genuinely, making his heart flutter. “You really have matured over the past three years. I might not have said anything, but I _have_ noticed. Sure, you’re still goofy and ridiculous sometimes—and, I mean, I’d never _want_ that part of you to change because sometimes your sense of humor is the only thing that gets me through some hopeless-seeming situations—”

“—I _knew_ you always secretly enjoyed my jokes,” he snickered, finally vindicated after years of her groaning and eye rolls.

“— _But_ ,” she continued, rolling her eyes and shaking her head with a wide grin she couldn’t suppress. “you really have matured into a capable, dependable partner who I can always count on when my back’s up against a wall. I _trust_ you,” she stressed, her expression sobering. “You read my mind and know what I want, what I need, without me having to say anything. There’s _no one_ else in my life I can trust like that, not even myself, Chat Noir.”

She looked down at the cobbled streets of the Île de la Cité below them and sighed, muttering, “So I worry that I’m screwing everything up by keeping secrets and putting walls up between us…but I’ve talked to Tikki, and she doesn’t think that there’s any other way to keep everyone safe. In the absence of other mentors, I have to trust her judgment and believe that she’s right…but I worry that I’m alienating you…that I’m losing you.”

“Shhh, Buguinette,” Chat cooed, pulling her in closer once more and resting his cheek on the top of her head. “You will _never_ lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I feel like I’ve almost lost you so many times,” she laughed miserably, a bitter snort.

He shook his head, effectively nuzzling her. “I always come back. And don’t worry. I’m not going to get frustrated and quit on you. …I’ve learned from _you_ that being a real hero means not running away and giving up when you make a mistake but sticking around, toughing it out, and fixing things in whatever way you can…. I’m in this for the long haul, Ladybug.”

She snaked her arm around his back, returning his squeeze. “Thanks. I just…I can’t help but worry that one of these days you’ll be gone permanently, and it’s going to be my fault.”

“No,” he assured with absolute certainty. “We started this together; we end it together.”

“Thanks,” she repeated, some of the tension finally melting from her muscles. “I hope so.”

“Believe it,” he urged, giving her a squeeze and then pulling back to meet her watery gaze. “You know, it sounds like _you_ were the one who really needed to talk, Buguinette. What was that you said about not bottling up feelings and trying to hide them?”

She blushed, looking away as he chuckled at her expense. “Do as I say, not as I do,” she admonished, whapping him on the arm before turning to him with a pout. “So? Spill already. I lowered my guard and got all vulnerable and touchy-feely with you. Now, it’s your turn. What were you so broody about earlier?”

He took a deep inhale and blew it out slowly, looking up to contemplate the stars along with his word choice. “Honestly, like I said, it’s nothing. I feel kind of silly getting so upset about it.”

“It’s not silly if you’re upset,” she comforted, gently placing a hand on his shoulder in support. “I’m not going to laugh at you, Chat Noir.”

He pursed his lips. “Yeah. I know. I just…I don’t want to bother you. I know you’re crazy stressed out with your own stuff, so I try not to throw my problems on top of your already heavy load.”

“Oh, Chaton,” she sighed, shaking her head. “You’re not a burden. I promise. Yes, I have a lot to deal with, but I will always have time and energy for you. You’re one of the most important people in my life.”

He gave a start, his head whipping around to stare at her in astonishment. “Wait…really?”

She nodded, eyes shining with sincerity. “Of course, Chaton. You’re really precious to me. Irreplaceable.”

“Oh,” he breathed, letting her words sink in.

“Yeah,” she whispered, a soft smile spreading across her lips.

He took her hand in his, threading his fingers through hers.

“…It was just something my father said,” he sighed, coming clean.

She braced herself, knowing from what he’d shared with Ladybug and Marinette that things never ended well when Chat Noir’s father had a word with him. His father could be insensitive at best, downright cruel at worst.

She gave his hand a squeeze, gently prompting, “What did he say?”

Chat chuckled darkly. “Well, apparently, my father hasn’t noticed the way I’ve matured over the years like you have. According to him, I’m too childish for a seventeen-year-old. We were talking about…” He paused, mulling over the best way to explain it. “…our family situation. I made the mistake of suggesting he try to move on from Mother and get remarried and be happy so that we could be a family again…and he just kind of lost it,” he sighed, hanging his head.

Ladybug winced, scooting in closer so that her knee touched his thigh in a reminder of her presence.

“He told me I was idealistic—a naïve, asinine romantic who still believed in fairy stories.” Chat Noir laughed flippantly, almost sounding amused, but Ladybug could tell how much his father’s scathing rebukes must have hurt. Despite everything, Chat Noir still loved his father and yearned for his respect and love.

“He told me that real life doesn’t work out the way it does in fiction. Apparently, in real life, you’re alone from the day you’re born until the day you die, and no one’s ever going to save you.” He wilted as he repeated his father’s words, chinks forming in his veneer of composure. “…He said that there are no happy endings, no true love, no magic spells, no fairy godmothers to solve all of your problems.”

She turned so that she could rub his back soothingly without releasing his hand. “I’m sorry he went off on you like that. He must still be very heartbroken over your mother leaving to have developed such a cynical view of the world.”

“Yeah,” Chat whispered, the word hollow. “…Except…I’m afraid that maybe he’s right.”

Ladybug’s brow furrowed into a deep V of confusion. “What do you mean?”

He looked up at her searchingly. “Fiction isn’t real…is it? Real life doesn’t actually turn out the way it does in books or movies, does it?”

She pursed her lips as she parsed his words, trying to come up with a truthful yet hope-inspiring reply. “…No, not all the time, it doesn’t, but fiction isn’t completely made up either. It’s based in some truth…deeper truths. I think fiction conveys really important lessons about being human and how to live, so it’s not like it’s worthless, even if the things in books and movies didn’t actually happen.”

He looked away and was quiet for a long stretch, lost in thought.

She bit the inside of her cheek, desperately trying to read the mercurial expressions flitting across his face.

Finally, he spoke again, as if narrating a story, “I was really sheltered as a child. I didn’t grow up with many friends, and I didn’t get out much. What I learned about the world, I learned primarily through the books I read and the TV shows and movies I watched. I thought fiction _was_ real for years.”

“Oh,” she breathed, his father’s words taking on a deeper meaning, a new sting.

“I found out when I was, like, ten that fiction didn’t depict historical events, but I’ve still always believed that the books that I read, the movies I watched, were realistic, you know?” He snuck a peek at her. “Like…as in, they _could_ actually happen. I thought my parents’ story was an outlier because I had read hundreds of thousands of pages of happily ever after and seen hundreds of hours of movies where things worked out in the end.”

He licked his lips nervously. “I thought…my becoming Chat Noir was the start of _my_ story. I thought there was some grand plan my life would naturally follow, and I’d meet the person I was destined to share my life with, go through a couple trials and tribulations, but then come out on top at the end and ride off into the sunset.”

She looked away, and so did he.

The air was heavy between them, but she didn’t let go of his hand.

“…My father is right, though, isn’t he?” Chat whispered after a long silence. “There is no guarantee that things are going to work out. We’re all just grasping blindly at whatever scraps of happiness we can get our hands on while we’re alive, and then we’re doomed to die alone.”

“I think that’s too fatalistic,” she replied, putting all her conviction behind her words.

He turned his head and studied her with interest. “You think?”

She nodded. “If I’ve learned anything from being Ladybug, it’s that human beings are fundamentally good and loving.”

He cocked an eyebrow, listening intently, grabbing onto her words like a lifeline.

“Yes, there are horrible people out there who do abominable things,” she granted. “But, for as much ugliness as I’ve seen, I’ve also witnessed bravery and strength and selflessness and compassion. People are good,” she reiterated, “and even though there’s no master plan or guarantee of happiness, there are beautiful things out there just waiting to be experienced and friends waiting to be made. It’s not all chaos and misery. Life is good and worth living, even if it doesn’t proceed in a neat, orderly fashion like it does in fiction.”

“Oh,” he mumbled softly, tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Shh,” she cooed, releasing her hold on his hand to reach up and wipe away the tears carefully with her thumbs. “I can’t promise that the stars will align and everything will work out in your life, but I can tell you that my parents have a relationship straight out of a meet-cute romance novel. They’re living their own version of ‘happily ever after’, so it really is possible. Don’t let your father completely stomp out your hope.”

He nodded, his sniffles becoming a weak chuckle. “Thanks, Buguinette. I guess I really did need to talk things out too after all.”

“You’re very welcome,” she assured with a bolstering smile. “I’m glad that what I had to say was able to help.”

“Me too,” he laughed a little more strongly. “I’ve been feeling really down since he said all that to me last night.” His lips drew together, doubling back onto themselves as he considered how honest to be with her.

Deciding to go all in, he looked down and to the side as he admitted, “…before that, even, actually. I’ve been feeling kind of hopeless recently. For a while.”

“What? Why?” she pressed urgently, alarmed and distressed that she had missed any and all of the signs.

He shrugged. “Just…again, this is probably silly, but—”

“—I promise it’s not,” she huffed.

“—I’ve been feeling lonely. A lot of my friends have found the person they want to marry and spend their lives with,” he explained. “And, like I said, I kind of grew up learning how the world works from books and Disney movies, and, in the stories I read and watched, people always seemed to meet the person they were destined for when they were young, and I feel like I’m getting old, past the point where I was supposed to find my soulmate, but I haven’t found them yet, so…”

He flinched, grimacing as he clarified, “Well, I mean, I _thought_ I’d met my soulmate, but I can’t very well marry you against your will, so…”

“No,” Ladybug agreed softly, compassionately, giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “But you can do better, Chat Noir. There are plenty of other people out there who you haven’t even met yet. You’re seventeen—not old by a long stretch—and you have plenty of time to find someone who appreciates you the way you deserve.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled, oddly comforted by her reassurances. “I always appreciate you rejecting me gently and trying to frame it in terms of me being out of your league.”

“You are lightyears out of my league, Chaton,” she insisted, giving his shoulder a friendly bump with her own.

He rolled his eyes and gave her arm a playful elbow in return. “Says you.”

“I do say so,” she snorted. “You’re the sweetest, most genuinely good guy I know. The only reason I’m turning you down is because I am insane and a masochist who doesn’t allow herself to have nice things.”

“So long as you know what you’re missing out on,” he snickered, and they shared conspiratorial grins before the atmosphere turned solemn once more.

“…I guess I’ve just been feeling lost lately, and what my father said completely threw me into a tailspin when I was already feeling turned around,” he sighed. “I’ve been feeling like I don’t know what kind of ‘story’ my life is, so I don’t know what to read or watch to show me what to do.”

Ladybug nodded, scooting in so that her shoulder rested against his in solidarity. “I can relate to that. I’ve felt totally disoriented many times over the years, and I’ve only been able to keep going because someone stepped in and did or said something that made me realize that I was stronger, smarter, and more capable than I was giving myself credit for.”

She looked to him and smiled bashfully. “ _You_ have been that person on so many occasions, Chat Noir. So, thank you. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you in my corner, cheering me on and supporting me.”

“I’m glad I could be there for you,” he replied in such a sincere tone that she knew he really meant it. It wasn’t just the usual platitude.

“I think that’s part of my problem,” he sighed, his affectionate smile of seconds before dimming and disappearing.

“In the books I read about people who are…” He mentally fished for the word, face twisting up into various frowns along the way as he came up empty. “I don’t want to say ‘broken’ or ‘damaged’ because that’s such an ugly way to talk about people, but…I mean people like me who have had crappy childhoods or messed-up relationships with their parents…people who have gone through things that leave them struggling to deal with life and the world the way that it is….” He looked at her uncertainly. “Do you know what I’m trying to say?”

She nodded. “You mean ‘survivors’. Survivors like you.”

Slowly, he started to nod, accepting her word and assimilating it into his self-concept. “Yeah. Survivors…. In the books I read about people who have survived various things and are trying to heal so that they can be happy and healthy, there are always people who help the main character through things and support them and encourage them.”

He took a deep breath before confessing, “I was thinking that maybe that was the kind of story my life was. Maybe I hadn’t met the person I’m supposed to marry because I have to go on a healing journey first, but I don’t feel like I’ve met the mentors I need to guide me or the friends who are supposed to support me yet. Like, maybe I’m still in the first stages of the book where all the characters haven’t been introduced yet.”

He looked up, suddenly anxious that he sounded insane. “I’m sorry. Am I even being coherent?”

“Of course,” she insisted, nodding encouragingly. “Keep talking. I’m with you.”

He took another slow inhale and continued, “Lately, I’ve started worrying that maybe there _are_ no other characters in my story. Maybe I’m on my own and no one’s going to save me or teach me how to save myself. Maybe I have to do this all on my own…but I don’t have any precedent for that kind of story,” he reasoned sadly. “I don’t know any books or movies where the main character pulls themselves up out of whatever they’re going through all on their own, so…it’s like I don’t have a road map, and I don’t even know where I’m going in the first place to be able to ask directions. And then Father told me the stories I’d based my entire understanding of the world on were a pack of lies, so…”

His shoulders slumped in defeat, his ears and tail drooping.

“…I feel like everything’s been turned on its head lately,” he confided in a whisper. “I don’t know if any of what I’m saying is making sense, but what I’m trying to tell you is that I feel lost and alone and scared, and I feel like the things I put my trust in weren’t true.”

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in, tipping her head to rest against his. “Shhh. It’s okay. I think I get the important parts.”

“I don’t sound crazy?” he forced a chuckle, trying to put up a lighthearted front even while his chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder.

“No,” she assured. “Your experiences may be really different than mine, but I think I can appreciate trusting in something only to find out that the thing…or person, in my case…wasn’t really worth the amount of trust you placed in them. Like I said, I’ve been lost and confused before. You’re far more coherent than I am when I’m having a breakdown.”

“Okay, good,” he laughed genuinely. “Thanks for letting me word-vomit all over you. I didn’t realize how much I needed to get all of this junk out of me.”

He bit his lip, hesitating before admitting, “I don’t really have anyone to talk to.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t feel comfortable talking with any of your friends about things like this?”

He grimaced, dropping his gaze. “I mean…It’s not that I _couldn’t_ talk to them. I just don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to be the boring, depressed kid who sucks the fun out of everything either. I typically keep up a cheerful, resilient front with them because they’re good, kind people, but they haven’t really gone through any of what I’ve gone through, so I don’t know if they’d be able to understand.”

He shook his head, glancing at her to gauge her reaction (distressed but eager to help in any way possible). “The last thing I want is to spill my guts to them and then for them to stare at my blankly, internally freaking out because they don’t know what to say. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable around me, so I tend just to keep things to myself…but, now, I really need support, someone who understands and can help me…but I’ve reached a point where I feel completely alone sometimes…and it feels like it’s too late, like I can’t tell them any of this _now_.”

He sighed, gazing up toward the stars once more. “I don’t know, Ladybug. I just wish I had someone to talk to so I didn’t feel so desperately isolated anymore.”

“…You can always talk to me,” she offered, feeling small and insignificant and completely ill-equipped to be the kind of support system he needed. Still, she was willing to try.

His lips twitched into the approximation of a smile, and he dropped his head to rest against hers. “Thank you, Ladybug. I really do appreciate it. Tonight… I _needed_ this…but I don’t think this is something we could do regularly. I know you’ve got a lot going on, and I’d hate to take up your time.”

“I don’t mind,” she insisted with a huff. “I was serious when I said I always had time and energy for you.”

He nodded. “I know, but I don’t want to be one more thing on your plate. Besides, it’s kind of hard to skirt around identity-revealing information with you. There are a lot of things that are just too specifically personal that I’d want to vent about but couldn’t. If we start doing something like this regularly, I know it’s only a matter of time before I say something that gives me away.”

Her face crumpled into a deep frown as she wracked her brain for a way to make it work, a way to be there for him. Her partner needed her, and she refused to let him down on something this vitally important.

“Even if you said it was okay for you to know my identity,” he continued quietly, ruefully, “that would only cause problems. It wouldn’t feel fair. I’d want to know who you were. I’d worry about whether you didn’t want me to know because my identity changed how you felt about me or something. I don’t know. It would just drive me crazy, so we probably shouldn’t even go there. It should be mutual identity reveal or no reveal at all.”

Her heart sank as he laid out the facts for her, crushing her nascent plans.

She gulped. “I…can’t reveal my identity to you. Tikki says that it’s too dangerous, especially with me being the Guardian. No one can know who I am. We can’t endanger all of the kwamis and Miraculouses.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, voice soft and resigned. “I know. It’s okay, Bug. Don’t worry about it. Tonight was wonderful, but I’ll be okay, so don’t worry.”

She pursed her lips, frustrated by her own impotence as she found herself stuck between choosing her duty or her partner.

She wanted to cry and tell him not to lie to her, that he wasn’t fine, that it wasn’t okay. She wanted him to hold her accountable for her actions, for how she was failing him.

But he didn’t.

He snuggled up with her, pretending everything was fine, enjoying the moment in all of its transient glory.

“Life is beautiful sometimes,” he whispered.

“Mmhm,” she agreed, unable to find her voice amidst her troubled, roiling thoughts.

They stayed like that for nearly a quarter of an hour, and then he pulled away, getting to his feet and stretching.

She blinked up at him curiously, arching an eyebrow in question.

“I should be going,” he explained. “It’s getting late.”

Alarms started going off in her head.

She felt like her window of opportunity was quickly closing, like if she let this moment end, it would be as if it had never happened. He would pretend everything was fine while slowly crumbling on the inside.

She couldn’t leave him stuck where he was, lost and alone without anyone to turn to.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she blurted out suddenly.

He blinked at her, staring startled for a moment before his mouth finally formed the question, “Sorry, what? What about Marinette?”

“You should talk to her,” she hurriedly insisted, scrambling to her feet. “If I can’t be there for you, maybe she can. She’s very trustworthy and nonjudgmental. You could tell her anything, and I bet she’d listen and try her best to understand. I…I need you to talk to someone, Chaton. I need you to be okay, so…”

She surged forward on impulse, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning and running, tossing, “Talk to Marinette” back over her shoulder as she fled the scene and all of the feelings that had welled up inside of her on that rooftop, making her feel very mixed up indeed.

In a daze, Chat Noir somehow made it back home, his head spinning as he tried to make sense of the world.

He released his transformation and collapsed backwards onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling in mystification.

“Plagg? What just happened?” Adrien inquired of his kwami, praying that the little cheese gremlin would be in one of his beneficent moods.

Taking mercy on his holder, Plagg forewent his usual after-patrol Camembert fest and landed on the comforter next to Adrien.

“What part are you having trouble with, exactly?” he snickered. “The part where she kissed you on the cheek? The snuggling? The honest conversation?”

“All of it,” Adrien laughed. “Like…did that happen?”

“Yep,” Plagg helpfully confirmed.

“She doesn’t usually open up like that,” Adrien hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, sometimes she’ll confide in me about things a little bit, but, even then, she’s still pretty guarded. Tonight was…really nice…. And it was good to finally get some of that stuff off my chest too.”

“Like I’ve been saying for _years_ now, you ought to talk to someone, Kid,” Plagg sighed, moving up to perch on Adrien’s chest. “It’s not good for you to hold everything in until you fall to pieces like that. You should talk to your friends.”

Adrien averted his eyes.

“I know you don’t think they’d understand and you’re afraid it would make everything awkward,” Plagg conceded in a weary huff, “but I don’t think you’re giving them enough credit. They _love_ you, and they would be sick if they knew you were in such bad shape mentally.”

“Yeah,” Adrien whispered, imagining how distraught Nino, Alya, and Marinette would be if they only knew how bad things were behind Adrien’s perpetual smiles and cheery disposition. “I don’t know, Plagg. I don’t want to mess things up and lose the few friends I have.”

“Kid, you won’t,” Plagg rebutted for what was probably the thirtieth time. “Nino would never cut you loose like that.”

Adrien made an indefinite noise and repeated, “I don’t know, Plagg.”

Plagg pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes in frustration. Sometimes he just wanted to shake his chosen and make him wake up and see how precious he was to his friends.

“…Are you at least thinking about what Ladybug said?” Plagg prompted with far more gentleness than usual.

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “…About talking to Marinette?”

Plagg nodded, staring down his holder expectantly.

Adrien heaved a deep sigh. “I know that Marinette would be compassionate and try her hardest to understand what I was saying and help in any way she could just like Ladybug did tonight, but…”

Plagg intensified his gaze. “‘But’ nothing. There’s no downside to talking to her.”

Adrien cringed. “Other than the fact that admitting you have mental health issues doesn’t necessarily make you an attractive prospect as a romantic partner,” he grumbled. “I’ve already admitted to one girl I like that I’m a train wreck; I don’t necessarily want to come clean to the other one too. I mean, I know nothing is ever going to happen with Ladybug, so I didn’t have anything to lose there, but there are times when I genuinely think that maybe I have a chance with Marinette, and I’d really rather not mess things up with her preemptively.”

Plagg took a deep breath, attempting to rein in his ire. “…Do you really think so little of yourself that you’re able to write yourself off entirely based on one perceived defect?”

Adrien’s gaze narrowed as his eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I…don’t understand.”

Plagg shook his head, his expression dripping with exhaustion. “Kid, your struggles with mental health don’t define you, and they don’t detract from all the amazing things about you that would make you a wonderful romantic partner…but you don’t see that at all, do you?”

Slowly, Adrien shook his head. “…I’m glad you think I have redeeming qualities, though…. Thanks, Plagg.”

He reached up and gently began to scratch behind the kwami’s ear.

Plagg gave a full-body shudder of pleasure, enjoying the attention for nearly half a minute before flying in to give Adrien’s cheek a fortifying nuzzle. “There’s a lot to love about you. I don’t pick losers to be my holders.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would,” Adrien chuckled, his morose mood lifting incrementally. “…Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Plagg snorted. “Now, as payment for my magnanimity, I demand—”

“—Expensive imported cheese?” Adrien guessed teasingly.

Plagg clicked his tongue. “No, but if you’re offering, I’m not going to protest…. No. As payment, I demand that you think about talking to Marinette. In earnest,” he stressed, suddenly without a hint of humor.

Adrien’s eyes widened at Plagg’s unexpectedly serious demeanor.

“Do you promise to think about it?” Plagg pressed.

Slowly, Adrien began to nod. “Okay. I’ll think about it, Plagg. I promise.”

Plagg nodded, satisfied. “All right. Good.” He flew in again to give Adrien’s cheek an affectionate lick and then resumed a more standard distance to look Adrien intently in the eyes. “My holders typically have an affinity for destruction. That’s not a bad thing. It takes tremendous strength and control to systematically tear things down, clear it all away, and start over from scratch. Destruction makes way for creation, new beginnings.”

Adrien frowned once more as he struggled to follow Plagg’s train of thought. “Oookay? …I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What I’m saying is, a little bit of destruction can be good. It creates room for growth…but don’t turn your power in on yourself, Kid,” Plagg softly entreated, warmth radiating in his voice. “Not the whole package, anyway. There are pieces of yourself you could stand to lose, but you don’t need to scrap the whole thing. Like I said, there’s plenty about you to love that’s good as is. Stop selling yourself short…and talk to Marinette,” he stressed. “If she can’t love you the way you are, she was never worth your time in the first place…but I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised if you give her a chance to prove herself.”

“…I’ll think about it,” Adrien reiterated, actually meaning it this time.

“Good,” Plagg decreed, heading over to the minifridge for his post-patrol meal. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am officially off duty. I think I’ve expended this year’s allotment of empathy and compassion in one sitting. Don’t ask me to be helpful again for at least twelve months.”

Adrien let out a snort of laughter, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at his kwami’s aloof charade. “Sure thing, Plagg.”

“I’m serious,” the little deity insisted. “Next existential crisis, you’re on your own because I am _spent_.”

With a fond smile curling up the corners of his lips, Adrien pushed himself up and started getting ready for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea was stuck in my head for a solid week before I gave up and wrote it. ^.^; It was good to get it out because this story is sort of close to home for me, in a way.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Even though Adrien is feeling down, I don't think that this is a depressing story. I think it's hopeful and life-affirming. I always like stories where the characters are struggling to overcome things and succeed and become healthier and happier.
> 
> What did you think? I wonder if the way Adrien feels is relatable for anyone. ^.^; Or maybe it's a completely foreign way of thinking. Please let me know what you thought because I'd be glad of some feedback about the things you liked or didn't. Did you have a favourite line? A favourite scene? Did you think that the dialogue flowed well? How did you like Plagg? He's a lazy gremlin most of the time, but there are times when he steps up his game for his kitten. He really does care about Adrien, and he shows up when it counts.
> 
> Thank you for reading, guys. The second/final chapter will be up on Monday, 01/25/2021. Take care!


	2. Self-Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for coming back for the second and final chapter. ^.^ Before we get started, I just want to thank everyone who took the time to comment on last chapter. It was kind of a personal story, so it meant a lot to me that people enjoyed it and could relate to what I had written.
> 
> Thank you as well to everyone who left kudos, bookmarked the story, or shared it with others. I really appreciate your support. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well.

At some point three years prior, before Adrien became cognizant of his crush on Marinette, he had surreptitiously begun to pay close attention to her. These years of reconnaissance allowed him to quickly pick up on the fact that something was up with his charming friend that Monday at school.

She was fidgety and distracted, obviously preoccupied by something.

Alya and some of the other girls noted her particularly odd behavior, but, when asked what was wrong, Marinette politely waved away their concerns and made excuses.

Adrien let it go that first day. He knew she had a lot on her plate with all of her extracurricular responsibilities. Marinette was rivaled only by Ladybug in her jam-packed schedule and need of multitasking.

When she was noticeably agitated the second day in a row, Adrien caught her as they were packing up to move classrooms, resting a hand on her forearm and giving her a confidence-inspiring smile.

“Hey. You’ve seemed really stressed out the past two days. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. Even if you just need to vent, I’m here for you, okay?”

She blinked, blushed, and looked away, smiling weakly. “Thanks, Adrien. I really appreciate the offer. I’m okay, though.”

His own smile faltered slightly because she obviously was _not_ okay, but…if she didn’t want to confide in him, it wasn’t like he could force her.

He nodded, turned up the wattage on his grin, and removed his hand from her forearm. “Well…let me know if you ever change your mind.”

She nodded, returned the smile with one even more fake than his own, and quickly finished packing her books, hurrying out the door as fast as she could without appearing to be fleeing.

On the third day of watching the woman he loved in obvious distress, Adrien could no longer stand by and do nothing.

He packed up quickly and waited for her outside the locker room after school, and when she came out with Alya, he flagged her down, asking if she were headed home.

“May I walk you there?” he inquired, shooting Alya a quick, meaningful look.

Alya promptly remembered that she’d forgotten a notebook she needed back in her locker, literally pushing Marinette towards Adrien as she beat a hasty retreat.

Quick of reflexes, Adrien deftly stopped Marinette’s fall and helped her get steady on her feet.

“I’m going to kill Alya,” she seethed, straightening her jarred purse and backpack as they nearly slipped off her shoulders.

“Forgive her,” Adrien chuckled. “She and Nino have this scheme about setting us up with each other so that the four of us can double date. Goodness knows I need all the help I can get to make you fall for me. Alya is doing God’s work.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, glaring petulantly at her friend’s retreating back as Alya disappeared into the locker room. “Goodness _also_ knows that I don’t need help falling flat on my face, so I think I can do without Alya shoving me.”

“Fair,” Adrien allowed, holding out a hand. “May I carry something?”

Marinette shook her head, hugging her sketchpad closer to her chest reflexively. “No, thanks. I’ve got it,” she assured, starting to head for home.

In the back of her mind, she worried about coming off as rude, but the last thing she needed was for Adrien to carry her books and somehow see the endless doodles she’d been doing of Chat Noir all week as she fretted ceaselessly about him.

Slightly dejected, Adrien slipped his hands into his pockets and followed after her, regretting her brisk pace, fearing it wouldn’t give them much time to talk.

“So…” He cleared his throat as they made their way down the school steps.

She looked back at him and nearly tripped to her death.

Luckily, he caught her by the arms, keeping her from nosediving into the concrete.

Unfortunately, her books and notebooks went flying as she flailed in the seconds before he steadied her.

Once he was sure she wasn’t going to fall, Adrien bent down to gather up her things, only to be stopped as she gasped, “Don’t look!” and rushed to retrieve them herself.

“Sorry,” she added when she came to her senses. “Just…private stuff. I don’t…” She paused to take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “Sorry I’m being such a spazz today. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Is it anything I could help with?” he offered, holding out a hand to assist her back to her feet.

She shook her head, getting up on her own. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether or not to let it go.

“…I’m really worried about you,” he confessed after a moment, unable to hold it in.

She stopped mid-step, turning to face him with a puzzled expression. “…You are?”

“Yeah,” he replied in a hushed tone. “Seriously worried. You’ve been really off all week. I’m not trying to force you to talk to me if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, but…I just want you to be okay, and I don’t think you are, and I’m feeling kind of helpless, so…”

He almost felt bad for forcing her hand, but it was getting to the point where he was worried about Marinette getting akumatized, and that was no good for anyone because how was he supposed to fight against the girl he adored if worst came to worst?

He couldn’t…so he crossed his fingers and hoped he’d be forgiven for being slightly manipulative.

“I’m concerned about getting akumatized over worrying about you,” he told her with a grimace.

Her eyes flew wide in alarm before fluttering rapidly in a series of astonished blinks.

“And, if that happens, I’m scared my akumatized self will come after you because you’re technically the source of my negative emotions, and then you’ll be caught up in things,” he elaborated, “and I really don’t want that. The last thing I want to do is add to your stress, so…”

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and gave her a pleading look. “Sorry, but…isn’t there anything I can do to help? I’m not asking you to talk to me about your problems, but if there were some way I could feel like I wasn’t so powerless to help you…”

He watched as her surprise crumpled up like a note passed during class into a troubled, thoughtful expression.

“…Sorry for being such a pain. I don’t want to cause problems,” he added earnestly, dropping the act and retreating one step at a time. “Sorry. Forget I said anything, but if you _do_ want to talk, know that I’m always here for you.”

He turned to go, but she caught him, fingers wrapping around his forearm, gripping, holding him in place.

“…Wait,” she called softly, a weary resignation in her voice.

He arched an eyebrow questioningly and waited for her to continue.

She sighed and tipped her head, motioning for him to come with her. “Walk with me a bit?”

“Sure,” he easily agreed and followed as she led him across the street and then past her house to the park next door.

They completed one lap around the square, Marinette deep in thought the whole time. Then, she went and took a seat on one of the park benches, and he sat beside her, waiting patiently for her to give some kind of cue.

She inhaled deeply and, gazing down intently at her shoes all the while, finally spoke. “So…there’s this guy.”

Adrien stiffened, his heart screeching to a halt as his mind called up helpful memories of all the times Ladybug had told him about her mystery boy.

Why was there always some other guy? Adrien wondered bitterly but then mentally slapped himself because of _course_ there were guys in the lives of smart, talented, beautiful women like Marinette and Ladybug.

“A friend,” Marinette clarified. “A really close friend, and I’m worried sick about him,” she sighed heavily, shaking her head, at a loss as to what to do.

Adrien relaxed slightly at the friendship label but didn’t let his guard down as she continued.

“He’s having some trouble with mental health and his family relationships, and I think he’s really depressed.” She looked up from her feet to meet Adrien’s gaze, and it hurt his heart to see the glistening tears blurring her vision. “I’m scared, Adrien, and I feel really useless because there’s nothing I can do to help him.

“It’s complicated,” she explained softly, looking away as if it would hide her guilt as shame turned her cheeks pink. “I can’t be there for him the way a friend should, so…I guess I’m feeling for him what you’re feeling for me. I’ve been agonizing over this since Saturday night, and I don’t know what to do. I know that there’s nothing _to_ do. I just wish I could make it all okay for him.”

She lifted her head once more as she vehemently informed, “Adrien, he’s one of the sweetest, best people I know, and he deserves better than what he’s stuck with. I wish there was something I could do so that he wouldn’t have to struggle so much. He shouldn’t have to.”

Adrien nodded, tentatively reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re such a good friend, Marinette. I wish someone would worry about me like that,” he chuckled, but the manufactured mirth didn’t quite make it into his voice. “He’s really lucky. It sounds like you care about your friend a lot.”

She smiled wretchedly, giving a sad little nod as she admitted, “I love him.”

It felt like getting hit with an icy blast of winter air or walking outside without a coat, shocking his system.

His hand froze on her arm.

It took a minute for him to form words, and, when he did, they came out stilted and awkward, betraying his distraction. “Oh. Wow. Uh… That’s… He’s really lucky.”

Marinette tipped her head to the side, frowning in concern. “Is everything all right, Adrien?”

“Sorry.” He forced a smile, cheeks stinging as he blushed. “Ignore me. I was just a little surprised because I think this is the first I’ve heard about you having your eye on someone. I mean, it’s only natural that you would, but…”

His hand went up reflexively to rub at the back of his neck, and he shook his head, trying to clear away his muddled thoughts. He was supposed to be helping her feel better, not having a pity party for himself.

“Sorry,” he repeated softly, sheepishly. “I’m just kind of flustered…and more than a little bit jealous,” he added honestly.

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, and she leaned in to stare at him in shock. “W-Wait. What? Like… _what_?”

“I thought I was pretty obvious,” Adrien laughed openly at himself, hoping to keep the atmosphere light so that she wouldn’t see his heart breaking. “You really didn’t know I have feelings for you?”

Slowly, she began to shake her head from side to side, speechless in her astonishment as she tried to determine whether or not she was dreaming this entire scenario up.

“Marinette,” he chuckled more genuinely, his voice warm and affectionate. “You’re amazing. Any guy who didn’t fall in love with you would have to be a total idiot.”

She gripped the bench seat to keep herself from tipping over and falling flat in the dirt.

Her head was spinning. How could this be happening? Adrien loved _her_?

Impossible.

And yet…he was looking at her with such a fond, soft expression in his eyes. It was just like the looks Chat Noir often gave Ladybug, so… Maybe it _was_ real.

Her lips parted to respond, to confess her own feelings, but Adrien cut her off.

His eyes widened in alarm, and he gave a start, jolting back and putting up his hands in defence. “…Oh, but, I mean, I totally support you! With this guy. If he’s the one you love…. I support you,” he rushed to assure.

Marinette blinked, mentally reeling from the whiplash.

Did he love her or not? She wasn’t entirely sure now, if he weren’t willing to fight for her. His affections couldn’t be _that_ strong if he was okay with giving up so easily.

“More than anything, I’m your friend, so I don’t want my feelings for you to get in the way of that or make things weird between us,” he explained, desperate for her to understand. “So, if you have to pretend that I never said anything, that’s totally fine. I support you. Whatever makes you happy is the most important thing.”

She had to pause to consider before responding. Her thoughts were so twisted up like a ball of writhing serpents battling to consume one another.

“Thank you, Adrien. That’s so sweet, and it’s seriously not a problem,” she promised, reaching out and placing a hand on his forearm. “We’re fine. Everything’s fine…. Honestly, there’s nothing for you to support. Things aren’t going to work between me and my friend, so…thank you, but nothing’s going to happen between us.”

Adrien’s eyebrows gradually pulled together into a V of concern. “Is it…because of his mental health situation?”

Marinette recoiled, staring at him in stupefaction. “What? No! No, of course not! Nothing like that. He’s amazing, and I’d be more than willing to stay by his side and support him through his struggles. He’s worth putting in the hard work for.”

Adrien’s stomach stopped clenching, and a faint hope welled up in his chest. If things weren’t going to work out between Marinette and this other guy, maybe Adrien still had a chance. Maybe she could see past Adrien’s struggles and still care for him too.

“So…what exactly is the problem, if you don’t mind me asking?” he pressed gently, chewing nervously at the inside of his lip.

She looked away, frowning down at her knees. “It’s…complicated.”

Adrien arched an eyebrow. “Is he gay?”

It was the only reason Adrien could come up with why a guy wouldn’t want to overcome all obstacles to be with Marinette.

Marinette chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No. He’s bi, so…”

She looked back up at him, scrutinizing his face, evaluating his trustworthiness. “…I’m going to tell you a secret.”

He scooted in closer, nodding that he was ready. “I won’t tell a soul.”

She glanced around, scanning the area to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard before she lowered her voice, whispering, “It’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien blinked slowly, uncomprehendingly. The words meant nothing to him.

Seeing his confusion, Marinette elaborated, her cheeks turning cherry blossom pink as she confessed, “My friend, the guy I’m in love with…it’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien’s brain crashed, and it took him a good ten seconds to reboot.

His initial inclination was to laugh hysterically because finally his love was requited, and he couldn’t have asked for a better romantic partner than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

His mind next trotted off to construct a detailed plan of all the ways he was going to make her happy and spoil her rotten.

It then occurred to him that he needed to tell her his identity, but then he decided to table that idea because Ladybug would be furious, and he wasn’t sure how Marinette would react.

He also wasn’t so sure that this was the best time to reveal his identity because Marinette was convinced that things wouldn’t work between them. She was also currently upset…because of _him_.

“You’ve been worried all week because of Chat Noir?” Adrien breathed as his brain came back online.

She nodded meekly. “I…Yes. He’s having a rough time, and I’m worried that there’s nothing I can do to help him. I’m not doing a very good job as his friend.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Marinette and pulling her into a fierce hug.

“You’re doing amazing,” he whispered into her hair, wishing he could express how much it meant to him, knowing that her skylight door was always open when he needed a safe space to escape from his life.

He may not have confided in her before about how bad things were because he was afraid of burdening her and scaring her away, but all the times when she’d allowed him to hang out on her balcony or in her room, all the times she and her parents had strong-armed him into making dinner and eating with them once they’d found out he ate alone most meals, all the times she’d saved pastries for him and Plagg…

Chat Noir might not have let Marinette see how dark it was inside of his mind, but she’d always been there to help right when he needed her. She’d gotten him through many tough times, even if she’d never known it.

He pulled back to look her intently in the eyes. “Marinette, I’ve seen you two together before, and Chat Noir is _crazy_ about you. Trust me. I can tell. If you love him and he loves you, why can’t you two be together?”

“Adrien, he’s a superhero,” Marinette snorted, rolling her eyes as if the problem were obvious.

“So?” he scoffed right back. “You don’t think you’re good enough for a superhero or something? Marinette, Chat Noir is the one not good enough for _you_. Stop being humble and date him already.”

“I’m not being humble,” she returned saucily. “I’m being practical. I can’t date a guy whose identity I don’t know.”

“Then let him reveal his identity to you,” Adrien suggested matter-of-factly. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

“I am _not_ ,” she protested, crossing her arms indignantly. “It’s too dangerous for me to know his identity.”

“How so?” he argued. “All you have to do is just not tell anyone that you know. Don’t get caught kissing Chat Noir, and no one will be the wiser. No one’s going to think twice if you start dating his civilian self.”

She pursed her lips, trying not to see his point. “What if I get caught up in an akuma attack and get brainwashed into revealing his secrets?”

“Chat Noir has been mind-controlled countless times, and he hasn’t given away his secret identity yet,” Adrien continued to stack solid argument on top of solid argument. “If you don’t tell anyone you know who Chat Noir is, Papillon won’t know to come after you. You’re perfectly safe so long as you keep your mouth shut. I think you can manage that, Marinette.”

“What if there’s a truth-telling akuma?” she tried in one last-ditch attempt.

He frowned at her in mildly annoyed disappointment. “Has there _ever_ been a truth-telling akuma? In the past three and a half years?”

She averted her gaze, her lip pushing forward into a pout.

“No. No, there has not,” he answered his own question triumphantly. “See? I’m not going to say it’s perfectly safe for him to reveal himself to you, but the risk is small enough that I feel comfortable with you taking it. Don’t you think he would be worth it?”

“Of _course_ he would be worth it,” she replied in a small, tired whisper. “It’s just…it’s complicated, Adrien.”

“It’s really not as complicated as you’re making it,” he sighed, gently cupping her cheek and tipping her head up to make her look at him. “Marinette, you’re a wonderful person, and you deserve happiness and love. Why won’t you let yourself have this?”

Her lips slowly moved into a self-deprecating smile, and she shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid that I really am a masochist who doesn’t allow herself to have nice things.”

It was like a foggy pane of glass shattered between them at her words, and Adrien flashed back to Ladybug sitting on the roof of Sainte Chapelle saying the same thing Saturday night.

He couldn’t breathe.

“What…did you say?” he choked as the pieces slid together: Ladybug’s insistence that Chat go to Marinette when Ladybug couldn’t be there for him herself. Marinette’s claims that things were complicated between herself and Chat Noir.

She shook her head again. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

His Lady, his Princess…the same person? Could he _be_ so lucky?

Her brow pinched into a frown as she registered his expression. “Why are you grinning like that?”

“Because I love you,” he chuckled giddily, rendering her utterly speechless.

She found that she literally couldn’t remember how to make her mouth, brain, and vocal cords work in concert to form any kind of reply, so she just sat there, parting and closing her lips like a drowning fish.

“Hey,” he called softly, slipping his hand into hers. “I really need to talk to you. It’s important,” he emphasized. “Could we please head to your house so we can talk undisturbed?”

She tried to speak, but it came out sounding like a collection of gibberish syllables, so, instead, she nodded and got to her feet, leading him back to her house and up the stairs to her room.

He had to let go of her hand in order to file up the narrow staircase, and, by the time they reached the attic, Marinette’s brain was once again semi-functional.

She took a seat on her chaise longue and motioned for him to sit anywhere he liked, urging, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I’m good standing, thanks,” he assured. “I’m actually feeling kind of jittery, so…do you mind if I pace?”

“Uh…go right ahead,” she encouraged, watching as he did indeed start to walk back and forth across her carpet. “…You said that you needed to talk to me?”

He took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh, “Yeah. Yeah. I did. I _do_. I…”

He bit his lip, rubbing at the back of his neck as he tried to get his harried thoughts in order. “I’m not sure you want to know, but I feel like I have to tell you. You’re not going to be happy, but this isn’t something I can keep from you.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “Honestly, I’ve kind of been in a dark place lately, Marinette.”

Her eyes rounded, pupils dilating in fear for yet another one of the most precious boys in her life going through a hard time.

“I’ve been feeling pretty down,” he confessed. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to bother anyone or make them worry.”

“Adrien, we’re your friends,” she scolded, fighting back a whirlwind of emotions.

Hurt that he hadn’t trusted her, frustration that he thought so little of himself and how much he meant to them.

“Worrying about one another and supporting each other is what friends _do_ ,” she stressed, hands going to her hips. “When you need help or just someone to listen to you vent, you come to us. We will _always_ be there for you.”

His lips quirked into a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I know. I just…have self-esteem issues. But I’m coming to you now, so…better late than never?”

Her expression softened, and she pushed herself up, going to him and wrapping him in a loose hug. “Oh, Adrien…you idiot.”

He rested his head against hers, muttering, “I was also afraid to talk to you about it because I was worried about ruining my chances with you. I know _I_ wouldn’t want to deal with me and all of my insecurities and hang-ups. I couldn’t imagine someone as epic as you picking someone like me when you could do so much better.”

“Adrien,” she cooed, pulling back to meet his gaze with an abundance of sympathy and affection. “Don’t…say things like that. There are so many amazing things about you.”

“That’s what Plagg said too,” he chuckled softly.

She blinked, her brain not registering. “Plagg?”

He nodded. “Saturday…I told Ladybug about how lost and alone I’d been feeling, and she told me to come talk to you…so here I am.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped as she struggled to make sense of what she was hearing.

Saturday night, Ladybug had talked to Chat Noir, not Adrien, so…

Her lungs seized, cutting off her breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered like a chastened child waiting to be struck. “I know you didn’t want to reveal identities and that’s why you sent me to Marinette instead of trying to help as Ladybug, but…I think the cat’s out of the bag, My Lady.”

To her credit, Marinette did not faint. She would have liked to because, if she were unconscious, she wouldn’t have to deal with reality right away, but she remained in full control of her faculties and, thus, had to attend to the matter at hand in real time.

“I need to sit down,” she announced, heading back over to the chaise to compose herself.

Adrien followed nervously, taking a seat beside her without infringing upon her personal space. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

She waved away his words, shaking her head. “No. No. It’s fine. I…This is my fault. I knew you could potentially figure out my identity every time I had Chat Noir over to watch movies or play video games. I knew I was taking a risk.”

She turned to look him in the eye. “If I had the chance to do it all over, I wouldn’t change anything.”

“Oh,” he whispered, dazed as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek, smiling softly.

“I don’t regret anything except not being able to be there for you more,” she added, making his heart swell. “But now we have to sit down and figure out what to do about this catastrophe now that we’re here.”

He arched an eyebrow, echoing, “Catastrophe?”

She nodded. “I mean…you know my identity. We’re in grave danger, Chaton.”

Deep furrows gradually dug their way across his brow. “Are we actually, though?”

She blinked, taken aback.

“Is this really the end-of-the-world scenario you think it is?” he pressed. “Like what I was saying earlier, if we don’t advertise that we know, why should Papillon target Marinette and Adrien more than any other Parisian?”

Marinette opened her mouth to argue her point but then closed it again when she realized that she didn’t have any good rebuttals to make.

“That’s why I’m always so careful when I come over here as Chat Noir. I don’t let myself get spotted coming and going so that I don’t tip anyone off to the fact that you’re important to me and could be used against me,” he explained, scooting in a little closer on the chaise. “If no one knows we know, how are we in danger?”

She pursed her lips and thought hard, trying to come up with a way to refute his logic. “…But what if there’s a truth-telling akuma?” she inquired weakly, knowing the feeble argument wouldn’t hold water.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and swore, “I would literally die before I betrayed you.”

Her heart cracked open at the very thought, and tears started to stream down her face.

“You die too much already,” she whispered, looping her arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to die…. I love you.”

He didn’t protest as she leaned in and pressed a butterfly’s wing beat of a kiss to his lips.

“Okay,” he chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. “No dying. We’ll figure something else out, but it’s going to be okay, Marinette. No matter what, we’ll get through this together.”

“Promise?” she hummed, a gentle smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“Promise,” he affirmed, inching forward to steal a more substantial kiss.

When they broke apart, there was a question in his eyes. “…Me being Adrien doesn’t change the way you feel about me, does it? You said you loved Chat Noir, but…”

A scarlet flare lit up her cheeks and spread across the bridge of her nose as she finally confessed, “You know the mystery boy I’ve been pining after since we were thirteen?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeeeees?”

“His name is Adrien Agreste,” she giggled.

He burst out laughing. “You have horrible taste in men.”

She slapped him playfully on the arm. “You have horrible self-esteem. That’s the real problem here. I only fall for the sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful guys. I have impeccable taste.”

“…You really think so?” he sought to verify, amazed that such a thing could be true, that such a woman could want _him_.

She nodded, gaze earnest. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Adrien. We’re going to have to work on changing that.”

“Is this a team effort thing now?” he hummed, delighted by the prospect.

“Absolutely,” she confirmed…but then the air of teasing left her. “…I’ve been really worried about you since Saturday. If there’s anything— _anything_ —I can do for you, please let me know. …What do you think I could do to help?”

He chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek for a moment before answering. “…I don’t know, really. You’ve done so much already for me as Chat Noir just by giving me a warm, safe, place to go when I need to escape. I feel bad asking for more.”

“Don’t,” she urged. “It really is fine, Adrien. Earlier, you said that you wanted me to be okay, didn’t you? That’s how I feel about you too, so don’t ever feel bad for asking.”

Slowly, he began to nod as comprehension dawned upon him. “…Oh….”

She gave him an encouraging smile and squeezed his hand. “Yeah.”

Blushing, he looked down at their joined hands. “Okay. Well…I’ll have to let you know as I think of things, but…I don’t know if there’s a whole lot you can do. I think a lot of being mentally healthy starts and ends with me, so…I think I have to do most of the work myself.”

“But you can still let me know if there’s anything I can do to support you,” she reminded.

He nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. …I will. I think mostly I just need someone to talk to about things.”

“You can talk to me whenever you need to,” she assured. “I mean, I hardly sleep, so you can call or text whenever.”

He frowned at this. “I think maybe we need to reevaluate _your_ self-care behaviors while we’re at it. I’ve always known that Marinette had a crazy hectic schedule full of stress and deadlines, but now that I know you’re juggling a side gig as a superhero on top of everything you do as Marinette, I’m kind of worried.”

She averted her gaze, sticking her lip out in a pout. “I liked it better when we were focusing on you.”

“I’ll bet you did,” he snickered. “Just know that this is a two-way street. I’m here for you too, Marinette.”

She dropped the pout and looked up at him with a soft smile. “Thanks…. I think you should talk to Nino about how you’ve been feeling lately. Maybe Alya too, if you feel comfortable talking to her, but definitely Nino. He’s going to freak.”

Adrien winced. “Yeah…. Yeah, I know. I just don’t want—”

“—Don’t you dare mention being a burden or bothering him,” she warned. “Nino would be insulted. He loves you literally as much as he loves his brother, if not, more.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed, sufficiently cowed. “I’ve just been too scared to say anything.”

She hesitated before continuing, “And…you know…maybe we could go see a therapist?”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise at the suggestion. “A therapist?”

She nodded tentatively. “I know I’m awesome, but I’m only seventeen, Adrien. There are a lot of things that I’m completely clueless about. I’ve looked into psychology a little bit to help me deal with akuma victims, but I’m not an expert. I was just thinking that maybe talking to a counselor would be helpful. Maybe they’ll think of things that could help that we would never come up with on our own.”

“That’s true,” he allowed, considering the idea.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I just know that there are a lot of times where I think, ‘Man, I wish I had an adult to help me out with this’. Most of the time I’m completely on my own—besides you and the others and Tikki, I mean…. I was just thinking that this is maybe one time where we don’t have to go it alone. Maybe an adult can help.”

“I’ll think about it,” he granted. “It would be hard to see a doctor without my father finding out, and he isn’t going to like this, but…it’s a good idea,” he agreed.

“Good,” she sighed in relief, leaning into a languid, exploratory kiss that Adrien was more than happy to return.

They broke apart a few minutes later with a contented hum and stared dreamily into each other’s eyes.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Adrien, and he gave a start.

“Stupid question,” he announced hesitantly.

“No such thing,” she assured, wrapping her arms around him more snugly.

“Are we dating now?” he warily inquired. “Sorry. Do I need to ask you out still? I mean, I assume we’re on the same page because we both said that we loved one another, and we’ve been kissing, so one would think that we’re dating, but I just wanted to make sure because I’ve never done this before, and I’m—”

“—Adrien?” she cut him off gently.

He tipped his head to the side. “Yes?”

“Will you go out with me?” she asked so that there would be no doubt in his mind as to what she wanted.

“Yes,” he responded breathlessly, and the joy in his eyes made her heart melt.

“Good,” she chuckled. “For our first date, would you want to have movie night tonight? We could snuggle on the couch and make cookies together.”

He surprised her by saying no.

“That can’t be our first date,” he whined. “It’s not romantic enough. I’ve had our first date planned for _years_ , Princess. There have to be rose petals and candles and mood music. We’re supposed to eat at this amazing restaurant and take ballroom dancing lessons and then have a rooftop picnic as we watch the stars and snuggle. We can’t have a night in as our first date,” he argued.

She stared at him with a deadpan expression, debating whether it would be damaging to their nascent relationship for her to face-palm.

“My boyfriend is a high-maintenance dork,” she sighed.

“Hey,” he pouted, and she could almost see his ears and tail drooping despite the fact that he wasn’t transformed.

“All right,” she relented. “If we don’t call it a date, would you like to hang out and snuggle and watch movies and bake cookies?”

“Definitely,” he easily approved but then thought to add softly, in a slightly hurt tone, “I’m not silly, you know, for wanting my first date with the woman I love to be everything I’ve ever dreamed it would be.”

“No,” she agreed, reaching up to stroke his hair lovingly. “I’m sorry. You’re not. You _deserve_ to have the first date of your dreams. I shouldn’t have scoffed, even if it is a bit more…” She searched for the word, came up with “over the top”, and decided against voicing it. “… _more_ than I had in mind,” she ended conciliatorily.

“I love you, and I want you to have nice things,” she assured, earning herself an affectionate nuzzle from him.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “That means a lot to me.”

She then did something she knew she would later regret as a show of her love for him: “You can plan our first date,” she offered. “Whatever you want it to be. Go wild.”

The way his eyes lit up at her giving him free rein confirmed her fears…yet, the pure joy in his expression made her think that, if a crazy rom-com-cliché-filled date was the price of his happiness, it was well worth it.

The

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be fair, I don’t think that this chapter is as good as the first one. ^.^; I don’t think it’s bad or anything, but the first one was the soul-baring chapter. This was the fluffy cleanup chapter. I hope you still enjoyed it, though. They can’t all be dramatic and emotional chapters. There needs to be fluff too in order to keep things balanced, right? ^.^
> 
> What was your favourite part? Was there a line of dialogue that particularly stood out to you or a description that you liked? What do you wish was different?
> 
> I think I like him telling her that she has bad taste in men and her correcting him. I also like him being so much of a romantic that he doesn’t want their first date to be a night in. XD You’ve got to know that he’s been dreaming about this date for literal years.
> 
> Anyway. I hope you enjoyed the conclusion. Thank you very much for reading, everyone, and thank you in advance for your comments. I’m excited to hear your thoughts! ^o^
> 
> Take care, everyone. I hope we meet again soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on [Tumblr](https://mikauzoran.tumblr.com/).


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